Renegade Opportunist
by John Marxist Nihil
Summary: Jekk Casol, smuggler and renegade opportunist, crash lands on Ord Mantell and falls into service with a group of smuggler-hunters caught up in a botched operation of Imperial underpinnings.
1. Of Shadows & Rust

**3,655 BBY**  
><strong>2 YEARS BEFORE THE TREATY OF CORUSCANT<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Benevolent Risk<em> cruised through the blackness of space, shrouded in the shadows of the rusty-coloured rock, Ord Mantell. Far away, the system's sun, Bright Jewel, shone with a beautifully radiant light. Within the _Risk_, pilot and co-pilot sat in private thought, observing the bruised world plagued by civil war — and their cargo's final destination — through the ship's large viewports. Bend Carriggan, captain of the _Benevolent Risk_, an XS stock light, was uneasily shifting in his seat, obviously restless and bothered by inner anxiety, as he guided the_ Risk_ frombehind the ship's stiff controls. Most of the movements were automatic, controlled by the _Risk_'_s _auto-pilotmainframe. The cause of their discontent was due to the daunting presence of a hulking Imperial starship floating above the war-torn planet — immobile, menacing, and unyielding.

"Incoming freighter, _Blind Harlot_. You're flying through a restricted Imperial military zone. This is Deck Officer Moomba. Please identify yourself and your cargo, or you _will_ be sanctioned with travel violations," requested the voice of an Imperial officer through their open comm channel. He carried the distinct accent of a sentient from the Galactic Core. They hadn't bothered to check travel restrictions applied to the Bright Jewel system before take-off. They silently hoped such a foolish mistake would not be their insignificant last.

Seated behind the co-pilot's controls, and next to Carriggan, was Jekk Casol, his shaking hands hovering above a complicated switchboard, a hidden anxiety climbing up his own throat, and licking at a dumbstruck mind. Jekk knew that the _Blind Harlot _was an unceasingly solid mask around the _Benevolent Risk's _true identity. Carriggan had been kind enough to indulge on tales of a few of his riskier missions aboard the _Risk _during their final flight to the Mantell system. Every good smuggling ship needed it's assortment of complimentary fake ID's, but Imperial presence, especially a military blockade, was a crushing obstacle for a washed-up old smuggler and his rookie co-pilot ... and even such a strong and trusted alias.

When Carriggan had stepped into the dingy cantina in the lower levels of Coruscant, looking for a partner crazy enough to join him for his final shipment, Jekk Casol hadn't hesitated to procure his own "good" fake ID and jump aboard for the chance to swim across the galaxy. Jekk Casol desired more than ever to become a smuggler. But, the opportunity to tag along with a veteran was difficult to come by, so with an elaborately conceived and fraudulent biography, he became Makar Serund, expert smuggler-pilot and space combat adept. He even added that he'd trained for the Imperial Starfleet, but was booted out for lack of discipline and obedience — the smuggler heart. He had enough foresight to predict that no smuggling operation ever concluded without a hitch, but Jekk was a quick learner. Nevertheless, Imperial heat wasn't something either of them had bargained for, and the threat of capture wasn't anticipated. In truth, Jekk didn't even know the specifics regarding the cargo in their hold.

"I said identify yourself, _Harlot_," persisted Moomba. "Answer me. I'm only giving seconds to comply, citizen. I'll repeat. This is a restricted Imperial military zone. We do not fire warning shots."

"Er. Hey, Cap'n?" Jekk nudged. "We don't exactly got all day here."

Bend Carriggan surveyed his co-pilot through ageing eyes. Eyes that had no doubt witnessed many terrible atrocities in the past and paid them no heed with the promise of compensation. He was a confusing old man, with graying hair, blue cataract-filled pupils and a hardened face. He wore dull, gray pants, worn black boots and a dusty, red pilot jacket. Jekk pegged him for a miserable character, one who'd lost the thrill of his life many standard years ago. Stoic, the _Risk's_ lifelong captainmotioned with his hand to proceed. Without hesitation, Jekk flipped a switch and the ship's comm channel opened to respond to the increasingly agitated Imperial officer.

"Sorry about that, Deck Officer Moomba," Carriggan said, with an ambidextrous apology. "We had a slight computer glitch. I actually meant to have that corrected during our last stop. This is Captain Nem Phoshii, independent merchant trader. Requesting permission to land on Ord Mantell for an urgent shipment of industrial machinery. How do you read?"

Static.

Carriggan rubbed his jaw with a work-worn hand, scratching at his five o'clock shadow. "Luckily, I rigged the_ Risk's _travel manifest to display Raxus Prime as our last refuel." He rubbed at the back of neck as he thought about any possible exploit for the alias he hadn't remembered to carefully work out. Jekk didn't need to ask for enlightenment, as Carriggan added, "Raxus Prime exports most of the galaxy's prime construction equipment."

"Denied."

The punishing negation seemed to sting the air like a punctured canister of synox poison. With obvious annoyance, the officer scolded, "This is a restricted Imperial military zone. You and your employer should have done your research beforehand. To avoid any future mishaps, citizen, all public Starfleet deployments are tracked via HoloNet. Note your landing vector has been authorized for docking bay 75 aboard the _Shadows Grand_. Follow the co-ordinates on your nav computer immediately, Captain Phoshii. Moomba out."

Jekk cut the connection calmly, slapping the switch back, as he bit at his lip. "Smooth job, Cap'n Phoshii."

"Hey, I'm not paying you to make snarky comments, boy," Carriggan chided. "I'm paying you to press buttons. So, do your job. Pull up those co-ordinates."

"As you wish, Cap'n. Imperial prison barge it is."

Carriggan grumbled as the mainframe automatically powered up their forward thrusters and started their foreboding approach to imminent demise. Carriggan clenched his fists and grinded his teeth. Jekk grumbled in mock vexation. "Hey, can't we just swing around and fly the Hell out of here? It's not like we're in range of their tractor beam yet. Er, well, nevermind. Maybe I spoke too soon?"

Carriggan irritably clenched his fists tighter, powerless to control the_ Risk_, as shebegan to tremble and shake in fright, almost as if she was pleading in vain for them to rebel. Jekk quietly imagined the faceless deck officer's sly smile as he observed their dot of a vessel, caught like a fly in his tractor beam, effectively cutting off any notion of an impulsive, desperate and last-minute escape attempt. It would be a wasted effort. They were trapped.

"Alright, alright — let's just stay calm," he insisted. "This ain't my first encounter with these suit-clad, protocol-sucking pricks. Hell, I've flown my ass through the Maw and back again. Once. This is nothing."

The trembling captain ran wrinkled fingers through his fading, grayed hair. "There's no possible way we can turn around," he said. Maw or no Maw, a barefaced edge of despair crept among his words. "But we can't go aboard that ship. Once they find out we're carrying illegal goods, they'll have us executed. And our jamming relay is gone. Those damned pirates that ambushed us in the Perave system blew it apart."

The gripping terror of the pirate ambush had burned itself permanently into Jekk's memory. The crisp, clean streams of lasers flying through space from an assortment of precisely organized starfighters, rotating around a central yacht, the shining metallic gleams giving away to sparks and spacefyre, the horrific lurching of the _Risk_ as it threatened to explode, engulfing Carriggan and Casol in a fiery casket. But the Imperials didn't need a squadron of starfighters to slowly beat down upon the little freighter's shields, a single shot could pound the _Risk _into submission — and that was more frightening than a thousand pirate ambushes. And Jekk still couldn't believe they managed escaped the devastation of just one.

"Maybe if we hurried, we could toss whatever cargo will fit into the hidden compartments and dump the rest into space," Jekk offered weakly. Even to him, it sounded like a hollow shot. "It ain't much, but it's worth a try. They can't sanction what they can't prove, right?"

"They're part of the Empire, and they can sanction whatever they want, boy. Besides, we aren't just carrying a couple of modified circuits and your typical smuggling contraband back there in the hold, Serund." Carriggan said. "Think about it, there's a war being fought below."

"Wait a sec, you're running weaponry?" Jekk said incredulously. He just couldn't admire such blind stupidity. "In this goddamn hunk of junk? Do you usually get that lucky? Man, you must really need those credits. That, or you're just crackpot crazy."

"Everybody in the galaxy is looking for their little bit of cake, boy. This is how I make a living. I'm just trying to get by, it's a crazy galaxy," Carriggan preached, as a red light began to blink on the nav computer, signaling the recommended manual takeover for their landing in docking bay 75. He looked dangerously strained as he grabbed the controls. "If you don't like it, you're welcome to dump yourself into space. I won't stop you."

"Right. You know, I'm betting that'll be the only way I'll get to see any more of it."

Jekk could see Carriggan turn his hard sharply through his peripherals at his aggressive retort. But upon meeting the old spacer's eyes, he noticed that Carriggan wasn't staring in anger at his co-pilot; Carriggan was staring in awe through the _Risk's _starboard viewport. Jekk turned to glimpse out into the blackness of lonely stars and watched, awestruck himself, as a legion of Republic starships emerged like war heroes from hyperspace, and hundreds of small starfighters poured from their bellies to engage the Galactic Empire. Jekk shouted out in alarm, reflexively shielding himself from the flurry of approaching starfighters.

With a cry, Carriggan wrenched hard on the control yoke, tearing from the grip of the Imperial tractor beam and sending the _Risk _into a barrel roll, dodging the incoming laser blasts as they were caught in the crossfire. But the bulky freighter was no match for the speed and agility of the starfighters surrounding them, and caught a stray spray of laserfyre directed at the opposing Imperial starship's aft. Luckily, the _Risk's _illegally upgraded shield systems deflected most of the impact. The rest rocked the ship without mercy, like a bobbing cork hit by a powerful gust of wind, bringing upon them the converging thunderstorm of war.

The gigantic starship, _Shadows Grand_, responded swiftly and methodically, fighting off the little fighters like gnats in a midday Tatooine summer, using mounted cannons, proton torpedoes and laser turrets as they struggled to mount a counter-offensive. Starfighters began to cascade from the docking bays, some shot out of space before they were able to speed away from the hull. Soon, the blackness was altogether ablaze with green and red streams of energy, explosions and charred debris. The display reminded Jekk of a Corellian Victory Day fireworks show, except his lungs were caught in panic and fear instead of wonder. He couldn't help but imagine in amusement, the deck officer struggling to effectively order his lieutenants into counter-action.

Without physical warning, an emergency light began to blink upon the switchboard, and Jekk Casol managed to flip it as he wrenched his frozen eyes from the fury of the battle. A series of green lights began to flicker as the _Risk's _astromech droids were deployed to stoke fires and hold the ship together. Carriggan was sweating profusely, all his focus bent on surviving the ambush, as he twisted and pulled the control yoke into different hair-trigger manoeuvres, while Jekk called out various status updates and technical readings. Cursing, Carriggan strained the engines to maximum thrust and fled as quickly as possible towards the looming surface of Ord Mantell.

"Republic capital ship, _Avenging Hand_ to fleeing freighter, _Blind Harlot_." The emergency comm channel frequency crackled under the strain of hundreds of communicating starfighter pilots in it's vicinity. "Is your crew alright?"

"Erm, affirmative, _Hand_," said Jekk shakily. "Just a bit battered. We're lucky you guys came when you did, those Imperials were giving us a bit of flak. Something about a restricted Imperial military zone and criminal sanctions drivel, yadda, yadda."

"Acknowledged, _Harlot_. Always glad to lend a hand. We're going to extend it a palm further, citizen. We're sending a convoy to escort you aboard. We suggest you tag along. This sector is going to get real ugly real quick."

"Uh, negative, _Hand_. We're expected for an urgent shipment on Ord Mantell. We've still got a couple moves left." Jekk directed a cautious eye at Carriggan, who was not-so-silently concentrating on flying a complicated, improvised pattern of weaves and dodges through the triangular blips on the cockpit's overhead targeting computer. He was cursing the outdated readout screen and every exploding starfighter's mother. "I think."

"Yeah, that's strongly ill-advised, _Harlot_," said the officer impatiently. "As you can see, Ord Mantell is not a vacation spot. We're just about to begin the —"

Carriggan cut the connection with the Republic starship, throwing a menacing look in it's direction through the viewports. "Imprisoned by the Empire, or imprisoned by the Republic? Take your pick, boy." He began to laugh bitterly, teeth still clenched in strenuous effort. The lurching and bobbing of the heavy freighter, struck by constant barrage of stray laserfyre, was more rapid and intense than any pirate ambush. The precision of the opposing factions was ultimately unmatched; the brutality of combat utterly unprecedented to any of the other skirmishes Jekk had experienced in the past. Suddenly, warning lights and alarms began to fill the cockpit, as the ship wailed in pain like a wounded wombat. Jekk watched in horror as, one by one, the _Risk's _astromech droids' status lights flickered and died, and cindered scrap metal casings floated dismally into the fray.

"Blast!" Jekk exclaimed. "We're losing shields! Starboard's begun taking direct hits!"

Carriggan grunted in exasperation and mounting frustration, as he pulled the ship out of a particularly difficult weave, crying out as a massive explosion rocked the _Benevolent Risk's _cramped quarters, activating another series of red lights and castigating alarms. "Carriggan! Dammit, we're losing cabin pressure; we've got leakages in all four fuel cells!"

"Calm down, boy!" Carriggan yelled back, slamming the autopilot switch. "It's over, dammit. We're going to have to jump. The _Risk's _gone. Now, get ahold of yourself. Let's go."

As the ship's strained stabilizers began to crash, and the ship fell into a violent keel that tugged Jekk's churning stomach along with it, Carriggan unclasped himself from his seat and stumbled out of the cockpit, using the bulkhead as a crutch. Jekk struggled to follow, unbuckling his own seat restraints and using his boots to kick himself up from the co-pilot's chair. With a wailing shriek, the ship jumped upwards suddenly and Jekk was thrown off-balance, crashing hard into the duraplast ground. His chest tightened. Forcing himself to breath, he half-crawled, half-limped through the cockpit. He could feel the anxiety and adrenaline pumping through his arms and legs, as he stumbled through the chaos of the dying ship. The smell of scorched metal, thick smoke and hissing wires filled the passageways. Reaching the cargo hold, Carriggan had climbed into the only undamaged escape pod, and extending a firefighter grip, pulled him along as the ship began to fall dead towards Ord Mantell's atmospheric tug.

Once inside, battered and gasping desperately for air, they slammed and pressure-locked the pod bay doors, and jettisoned.

With a hiss, the escape pod launched from the _Risk's _slackened hug, as it uncoupled from the ship's failing magnetic seal, falling away from the broken old girl. Through the rear viewport, they watched as the ship exploded behind them in a brilliant display of starship coolant, battery acid, and spacefyre. They caught their breath in reprieved silence for a long moment.

"Well, hey — at least the worst is behind us now, eh, Cap'n?" said Jekk confidently, gesturing with his hand.

Bend Carriggan smiled bitterly, cringing, as he massaged his aching knuckles, pulsing with arthritic misuse. "Trust me, boy, we're not out of this yet."

As if to add insult to injury, the pod began to jerk unpleasantly, disturbing their settled stomachs, as the rust of Ord Mantell reached out with a precarious hand to claim them, and they plummeted, along with the sad starfighter wreckage falling away from the raging battle, into the shadow of the planet's taunting, and miserably dark mocking embrace ...


	2. Shining Steel

**ORD MANTELL**  
><strong>72 HOURS AFTER <em>BENEVOLENT RISK'S <em>DESTRUCTION**

* * *

><p>Jekk Casol applied more pressure to the deep wounds in Bend Carriggan's chest, which had been bleeding profusely since he was butchered. The jagged rock collected a stream of dark blood where Jekk had dragged the writhing spacer across the rough ground. It was nightfall, the dusk sun's glow casting a dusty light across the ragged peaks and cliffs of the Ord Mantell mountain region, shining through the billowing smoke rising from the wreck of the <em>Shadows Grand <em>beyond the summit. The view of the Mantellian valley would have been a beautiful sight to behold, if carnage hadn't stained the holocard-esque vista, and if the destroyed mouth of Bend Carriggan wasn't moaning and coughing up blood and pus.

"Kid, I always thought when my time had come, I'd be spaced," whispered Carriggan. He was cringing, biting back the curses he couldn't utter in agony through his wounded lips. His tormented eyes showed defeat. "Ord Mantell. I don't want to die here. I shouldn't have jumped the _Risk_. I should have died with her."

"Hey, come on — don't talk like that, Cap'n, you're going to be just fine," Jekk lied blatantly. He didn't exactly have a medical degree in practice at comforting a man through the gates of death. "There's probably a settlement over those mountains there. Don't worry, we'll get help, Cap'n."

"Captain," Carriggan echoed, laughing forcefully, coughing and shuddering as a deathly cold began to overtake his broken body. "I'm no captain any more, my old girl is blasted across a thousand klicks of galactic vacuum. And now I'm going to die on this blasted rock ... far, far away. So, just save the sanctimony, boy."

Though he wasn't entirely correct — most of the _Benevolent Risk's _twisted frame had probably been completely consumed by Ord Mantell's atmosphere, as it's empty carcass plunged into the abyss, but Jekk wasn't planning to rob the old smuggler of his poetic last words, factual inaccuracy aside. He was gripping the old man's sleeves tightly, white-knuckle tight, transfixed by the shock of approaching bereavement. He watched silently as the old man lay for a while, as his breathing became progressively laboured. Carriggan spluttered, spraying red droplets across Jekk's sleeve. He grunted again, closing his eyes.

"Sorry, boy."

Jekk Casol watched in quiet despair as his chest rose and fell slowly, each excruciating breath of air tearing the life from the old spacer's seared lungs. He opened his mouth and struggled to inhale, and died, lungs emptying, heart ceasing, the mind no longer desiring oxygen. Cursing, Jekk tugged at Carriggan's sleeves in vain, kicking away from his corpse like it carried a contagious disease that must be purged. He crawled away cursing, stumbling to his feet, but nearly collapsed as blood rushed to his brain and he was abound with a sickening vertigo. With a disgusted hack, he leaned against the rocky mountain wall and retched, spraying stomach bile and saliva across the ground.

He collapsed, and lay there for a while.

Revolted, and numb, Jekk recollected his thoughts, as he gazed out at the Mantellian sunset. The valley was beautifully bittersweet. Birds flew above the treetops of forested thickets that crowded around groves and grasslands, rising as hills and rocklands scattered throughout. The sunset was an amazingly vibrant gold, and as stunning and surreal as it was, it felt natural. After a long while, after Bright Jewel had dipped beyond the mountains, and the dim, red glow was fading into a melancholic purple-blue, Jekk finally summoned the courage to tear his eyes from the beautiful scene and drag the old spacer behind a small cluster of rocks. The stink of his rotting cadaver had already pierced the sweet, mountain air. It was putrid. A swarm of marauding birds hovered in circles above the outcrop, awaiting their feast. Jekk removed the blaster pistol from Carriggan's hip, overcome by fury, and fired off a round into the air. They scattered with shrieks of panic.

"Get the Hell out of here, you sick bastards!"

He watched them flutter away. His arm slackened, and the pistol fell against his thigh. He sighed, and bent to remove Carriggan's equipment. "I hope you don't mind if I borrow a few things, Cap'n," he said, as he unbuckled his hip strap — plasma torch, charge packs and all from the slain carcass. He tugged the old man's jacket up over his face, and carved a few words into the rock with the end of his blaster, then stood back to observe the handiwork. It wasn't much. The rocks were very silent guests, and said nothing in eulogy. Jekk uttered a few customary words of passing common at Corellian funerals, and turned away from the chilling scene.

Marching across the tremendous mountains that seemed to dominate all of Ord Mantell's surface, Jekk hoped against odds that he wouldn't stumble upon another prowling, hungry beast, or worse — a pack. He had no idea what nomenclature it bore, but he wasn't eager to come close enough again to ask. He didn't have much firepower, just the small blaster pistol now slung at his hip, and the plasma torch tucked into his boot. No food or water. No bedroll or lodging for shelter. And he'd left both his datapad and comlink along with his other possessions in his personal quarters aboard the _Risk_.

After a couple painstaking hours of walking through the tight darkness, he came across a trickling mountain stream that pooled into a small spring. Flutterplumes hovered above the rippling water lazily, glowing in the dark. Jekk surveyed his mangy appearance in the reflection cast by the ominous light of the Mantellian moons upon the murky water. His clothing was ripped and tattered, his face was covered in dirt and ash, his messy black hair matted. He rubbed the stubble growing at his jaw with dissatisfaction. He despised the rough texture of facial hair. Scratching at his neck, he extended a palm to the pool and drank the cool water thirstily, until his abdomen was bloated and the water had quenched both his hunger and his thirst. All he'd eaten in the past seventy-two hours was local vegetation — grass — and the limited rations from the escape pod's survival pack. Despairingly, he wished he'd carried some sort of travel canteen. He made a mental note to always carry basic survival gear with him on any mission in the future ... if he managed to survive the Mantellian wilderness.

Jekk rested by the spring for as long as he dared, worried that a roaming wild beast might get thirsty as well. He decided to search for a cave or crack in the rock to sleep away another chilly night. He pulled out the plasma torch and ignited the warming flames, using it as a heat source. The plasma torch singed away the cloak of shadows that had besieged him, but he still felt shrouded in something far more sinister as he marched along. The dropping temperature of the mountains began to cause his exhaled breath to expunge as condensed vapor. The plasma torch, however, offered little comfort as he trekked through the barren nothing of the Ord Mantell badlands, with hopelessness that burgeoned like Felucian mushrooms. He found a small cave, and tucked himself inside, similar to a watch-critter scurrying through the hallways of a Plawalian prison. A marauding bird perched atop a crooked, dead tree, awaited the necrosis of the starving human within. Soon, he fell into an uneasy sleep — tormented by nightmares of a furious beast striking down a faceless adversary.

Suddenly, Jekk awoke.

He sat up, and his shirt stuck to his tingling skin. He lay in cold sweat. The freakish sounds of something heavy moving a few metres away echoed throughout the cavern. A shaky hand dropped to his hip and unstrapped the blaster pistol, wrenching it from it's holster. He gripped his plasma torch tightly, pointing his weapons at the crack in the mountain wall. A faint dawn's light was shining upon the narrow view of the Mantellian landscape visible beyond. The beast they'd encountered and fled must have tracked him down, stalking the trail of his human stench straight to his hidden camp in the crack. The beast made it's awful grunting sounds, and scraped it's gigantically sickening claws across the sharp rock like an old furnace in an encased industrial dome on the surface of Rodia. The monster's face peered in through the crack, a deranged smile splitting it's hideous facial features. With a yell, Jekk ignited the plasma torch and held it high in the encroaching darkness. The creature roared, spraying spit everywhere, then tore at the crack's frame with it's massive reptilian hands. The cavern was collapsing!

"Dammit!"

Forcing himself to ignore the paralyzed feeling of fear that froze his boots to the rock, Jekk swung his plasma torch to hold the beast at arm's length, as he blundered out of the crumbling cavern before the rock buried him within. He aimed carefully, and squeezed the trigger hard, but the blaster shot ricocheted off the beast's tough, scaly skin. The beast roaring in his ears, he cursed it's thick hide as more shots skimmed across. They did little damage, only enraging the beast, as it emerged from the dust of the sepulchered cave — a bipedal, yell0w-black hulk of a creature, sticky saliva dripping from his fangs. It was quick, way too quick for the reflexes of the tiny human before it. With a savage strike, it brought it's terrible claws down upon it's enemy. Jekk cried out in pain as he felt skin rip and tear, bones and ligaments shattering. His blaster smashed apart, parts scattering across the ground, and Jekk crashed monolithically to the hard rock.

Head swimming, eyes blurred, mind dazed and body stunned, Jekk Casol could only stare in horror at the glowing eyes of the horrible beast rearing before him, as it lifted a leg for a brutal stomp. Luckily, Jekk was able to roll out of reach, ignoring both intense pain and burning, salty blood pouring down into his eyes. The beast reared for another stomp, but Jekk rapidly spiraled away again. Hopelessly pessimistic, Jekk knew he was going to crushed and picked apart, muscle by muscle, bone by bone, devoured like some kind of wilderness prey. The beast was about to stomp again, a triumphant gleam shining in it's slotted eye that could have been some kind of sick amusement, when a massive, silver-black machine flung from a cluster of trees and thick underbrush and tore into the beast's side, knocking it onto it's back with a resounding — _crash!_ The machine, which Jekk recognized as a swoop bike, smashed and grinded along dirt, launching mounds of it into the air. A lone humanoid lunged from above, a vibroblade glinting from the beam of light cast by the awakening Bright Jewel, as he landed flawlessly beside his felled prey's body. From the humanoid's build, Jekk assumed he was a male.

Determined to get it's revenge, the beast quickly stood, anger and confusion causing veins to pop from it's neck, and blinded by bloodlust, it attacked without thinking. The armed humanoid was too agile, dodging it's attack and slicing at the beast's calf muscles, as he circled the demented monster. A black liquid poured from deep gashes like engine oil spewing from cracked motor casings, as it feel to it's knees and cried out in anguish. The swords lunged again, once more executing a flawless landing upon the beast's shoulders, and plunged his vibroblade deep into the beast's horrible mouth and down it's throat, as it howled in vain. It gurgled, spraying more black liquid everywhere, then slowly knelt and fell to the ground, dirt and tiny rocks rushing to escape it's collapse. After a brief moment of recuperation, the humanoid stepped down from the shoulders of it's kill and stuck fast the dripping vibroblade into the dirt, panting hard with exhaustion and relief.

The swordsman uttered something through laboured breathing in a foreign dialect. He was wearing a heavy hood, and hide-armoured platemail. Jekk pegged him for a hunter or a poacher of some kind, but he couldn't discern much else of the silhouetted humanoid, who stood like a black shadow before the arising Bright Jewel. He seemed like a deity as he spoke, "No? Well, a speaker of Basic, perhaps?"

Jekk grunted as he struggled to rise, trying to regain his composure. His perception was as hazy as a Force-induced dream world.

"_What?_"

"Woah, woah, pal! Take it easy," pleaded the hooded silhouette, as he rushed to a fallen Jekk's side. "You're pretty banged up. Here, let me help you."

"I'm alright," grimaced Jekk. The jabbing, shooting pains in his shoulder and abdomen were reminiscent of beatings he received in the horrible confinement conditions of the prisons on Belsavis. "Believe me, I've taken worse beatings."

"You're pretty damn tough, pal. I'll admit, not many match muscle with a brute like that and walk away, er, well, partially unscathed. You got a name?" The humanoid saviour tugged off his hood to reveal a tattooed face, and a horned skull — the humanoid was a Zabrak. He extended a gloved hand. Jekk wrapped his own frail grip around the swordsman's wrist and the swordsman pulled him off the ground. While Jekk examined the severity of the incisions upon his skin, the Zabrak fetched his sword from the dirt and sheathed it, and Jekk dusted himself off, inspecting a particularly nasty slice through his right shoulderblade.

"I'm Casol. Uh, Jekk Casol."

"That's of Corellian origin, yeah?" The swordsman guessed. He smirked. "I'm Khem Korbalade, smuggler and gambler extraordinaire. I, and my illustriously daring associates, saw your escape pod crash to the surface, along with the Imperial ship. We figured we'd hop on our landspeeders and track you down. That dead monstrosity of flesh I just slew, well, he was very kind in providing some enlightening directions. You need help to walk?"

Jekk allowed the Zabrak to lend a shoulder and they slowly began to limp towards a group of humming landspeeders just a short distance from the dead "monstrosity of flesh".

"All I can say is thank you for saving my life, hunter, I would be dead if you hadn't come along," Jekk said graciously. "What in _space _was it anyways?"

"Ah, it's an animal native to Ord Mantell. It's called a Savrip. Damn things love to roam around in packs and prey on surrounding settlements. You're lucky the one chasing you was working alone. But, there's plenty of credit to be had extirpating them, and it's the only way to make property taxes around here."

Jekk nearly tripped on a sudden dip in the ground, but the Zabrak skillfully avoided a clumsy calamity. Jekk grunted, allowing the Zabrak to continue.

"We found the rotting corpse of another human who wasn't as fortunate as you," he proceeded sorrowfully. "We buried him. I assumed he was a friend or a companion of some sort. Was I correct?"

"Yes," said Jekk simply.

"Damn, that's too bad. Sorry for your loss," he said solemnly. "If we could have tracked you down quicker, we could have saved your friend, too."

"Hey, don't worry about it. I barely knew the guy."

The Zabrak remained quiet for the rest of their painfully slow trek towards the landspeeder group. Whether it was regret, or an awkward silence in response to the growing staleness of their small talk, Jekk didn't know or care. He was just glad to be alive and breathing. Soon, they reached the circle of landspeeders, and the small group of cloaked figures who sat upon them patiently and silently.

"Hey, nice kill, Khem," complimented a dark-skinned man, puffing on a death stick. Another clapped jokingly. "The hero of the day returns," he chided.

"So, uh ... where are you headed?" asked Jekk, as Khem Korbalade helped him into the back of a landspeeder piloted by a pair of Rodian pilots. He leaned against the frame, and lit up his own white-gray death stick.

"Well, we've got a small encampment about a hundred klicks west across the valley," he enlightened, as he motioned for his crew to pack up. "You can rest up there for a while, maybe head into Trader's Quarter and secure passage off this rock. Although, I doubt it. What with the Republic blockade and all. Either way, we've got plenty of medical supplies and food if you're hungry — and work, if you're broke."

"Ready, boys? Let's fly!" Tapping the frame of the landspeeder with a wink, and tossing his blackened death stick into some bushes, Korbalade left Jekk and climbed into the pilot seat of his own landspeeder. The engines of which were kicked into overdrive, and all at once they ignited, roaring like a chorus of fresh starships outbound for their maiden voyage. Chanting combined war cries and yelling with victory, the group of riders sped off towards the horizon where Bright Jewel had finally risen. As they raced past the felled monster, the collapsed cave, and Jekk Casol's near-final stand, he watched with a satisfied smirk as a swarm of marauding birds picked apart the belly of the beast ...


End file.
